Committed
by Rouch
Summary: Warning Spoilers Author's take on an episode that has not aired. If you wish to remain spoiler free do not read until Committed 5x20 airs.


Ok… so I have been checking the fanfics waiting for a story to be posted about the up coming episode "Committed" and suddenly realized I could write one…. I've been keeping up with CSI as much as possible, but training has been intense lately, so forgive the continuity errors, I usually try very hard to make my fanfics follow the show as much as possible. I understand fanfic is the place for A/U, I am a realist however, and try to keep everything in character. All that being said, I am taking some liberty with Sara's history…filling in the gaps that TPTB have not yet revealed.

Thanks to ZenBridge, Mystery, and Marbs84 for the spoilers, this fanfic is a product of their work.

Longest A/N ever sorry, but there is one more thing to take care of: I do not own CSI or any concept connected with the show. I am merely a fan of the show and the actors that bring the characters to life every week.

WARNING: if you have not been spoiled and do not want to be do not read any further!

Last chance….

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Sara walked into the break room expecting another shift filled with paperwork. Not many people realized that the number of hours spent at a crime scene translated to twice as many tied to a desk. She still loved her job though, and life seemed much more enjoyable now that someone at work knew her secret she had gone to lengths to keep buried. Once she had shared her history with Grissom, and cried away the pent up emotion, she felt like a new person.

She sat next to Greg and smiled. He grinned and passed a cup of coffee to her that he had already poured for her. Before she could thank him Grissom walked in followed by Sophia. Wasting no time he started handing out assignments.

"OK, Greg, Sophia, I need you to check out a B&E that just came over at the Stratosphere. A guest's room was vandalized, and the room safe was broken into. Sara, you and I have a death to investigate over at Sparks State Hospital."

Sara suddenly felt nervous, she was familiar with Sparks, and was hoping she was wrong about the department they were going to. "Accidental patient death?"

Grissom looked into her eyes. He knew her fears, and they were the reason he paired her with him for the night instead of Greg. If he let his emotions decide the assignments she would not be going anywhere near the hospital, but his gut said one experienced CSI was not enough, he need her. "No, a convict in the psychiatric unit was found dead in his room lying in a pool of his blood."

Grissom watched her tense visibly at the mention of the psychiatric unit. He wanted to comfort her, he wanted to do that often, but was always hindered by his environment. No one else in the room knew her history, and would not understand his actions. The only time he was unhindered was in her apartment, and just holding her hand was just the beginning of what he wanted to do to erase her pain. At this moment in time he would need to use practical ways to comfort her, "Brass is coming with us."

She nodded trying to act naturally. Greg was starting to look between her and her boss, knowing there were words that were being communicated without being spoken. He was about to speak when Sara patted his knee under the table, trying to convey to him that she was ok and there was no need to worry. She knew she would eventually tell him the truth, but had no clue how she would approach the topic.

Clearly not satisfied, but willing to respect his friend, he smiled seriously, and then transformed instantly to his normal excited-to-be-a-CSI self. "Ok, let's go solve a case." Sophia had to laugh at his enthusiasm, and followed him out the door.

Grissom continued to look at Sara, trying to gage her reactions.

"I'm fine Grissom." She stood, and had a hint of a smile on her face, walking out the door; she called over her shoulder, "Let's go solve a case."

* * *

They followed Brass to the hospital. The silence in the SUV was deafening. Sara stared out the window, fully aware of the glances Grissom were throwing her way. Even if she couldn't see his reflection she would still be able to feel his concern. "I'm not going flip out when we pull into the driveway if that's what you're waiting for." Even after she spoke she regretted her sarcasm. She heard his sigh, but still couldn't bring herself to apologize.

Grissom for his part was torn. They were on the job, and he had to keep the relationship profession. In fact he had to keep it more profession then the rest of the CSI team. He deeply regretted that she had to pay the price for his feelings, but the only way function on the job without his feelings showing was to make sure there could never be a perception of those true feelings. In fact he was doing fine until the Debbie Marlin case. When he looked the victim in the eye, it took all his strength to not run to Sara and touch her to make sure she was real and alive. His main fault was not explaining all of this to Sara in private. He was willing, ever since she broke down in her apartment, to develop a split personality. Gil needed to talk to Sara about his feelings, but Grissom needed to make sure his interaction with Sidle was irreproachable. That was the easy part. Now he needed to make Sara Sidle understand.

Sara was surprised she didn't bait him into an argument with her comment. She wasn't looking for a fight, but all the pent up emotions that began to build the minute she heard what her assignment was for the night needed to escape some how. As they pulled into the drive she instantly flashed back to the day her foster mother took her to visit her mother. Sara had watched others come out of the building, and she would always remember the look of fear that she saw as the strangers walked back to their cars. She never went in. The active imagination Sara had, she had dreamed up the horrors that walked the halls. Being older and more street smart, Sara knew the horrors were worse then she imagined, and now she had to enter the bowels of that hell. Before leaving the safety of the SUV she pulled her Sig out the holster and checked it over.

Grissom watched as Sara made sure there was a round in the chamber and started to break the line he just drew for himself. Before he could place a reassuring hand on her shoulder she stopped him.

"Don't," it wasn't harsh, or even vulnerable. She was drawing her own line, and Grissom understood. CSI Sidle, the women that trained in hand to hand combat, needed to walk through the doors, not Sara the frightened, abused child.

Grissom got out, and checked his own weapon discreetly before heading to the back of the truck to get his field kit.

* * *

Brass walked ahead of the CSIs, and Grissom placed Sidle protectively between the burly cop and himself. He was half listening to their guide, the head of admin, Phil Boyd. Forcing himself to take his attention off Sara, he looked to the tall lanky man explaining the hospital system. 

"…we house two categories of patients, those found criminally insane, and those identified as sexually violent predators. Crazy and more crazy."

Brass looked at the man, "First time offenders?"

Boyd shook his head, "They all have multiple convictions. This is the last resort for the prison system. We take the complicated cases that the maximum security prisons can't accommodate."

Sara nodded grimly, "So, we have a unit full of suspects."

Boyd continued to walk through the unit with no response. They walked over to the nurse's station and Sarah considered the enclosure. Glass on three sides, with a steal door that was propped open with a door stop. She stood at the thresh hold of the 'room'; she wasn't quite ready to label the small area a full fledged room yet. She hated small spaces. Her closet was where she would go to hide from her dad when he was drunk—

"Sara?" Grissom questioned noticing her hesitation.

Snapping out of her thoughts she looked at the nurse that was sitting at the desk obviously shaken. Glancing at her nametag, "Nurse Faber—"

"Call me Nanette." The middle aged blond offered.

Sara continued, "Nanette, this is an extremely unusual nurse's station."

Faber shook her head, "It was built for security. The door locks as soon as it's shut and you need to be buzzed in, or need a key to unlock it. They were thinking worse case scenario I guess. In case there's a 'jail break'. The hospital also has its own internal police unit, and every staff member carries an alarm pen with them that enables them to activate the security system when they fear a potentially dangerous situation." She held up her pen. "The alarms go off almost daily."

Sara nodded, still not ready to enter the area, "Can you take us to the body and explain exactly what you saw?" She saw the flash of fear, "Is it safe?"

The nurse nodded, "All the prisoner's doors are locked now."

Grissom picked up on the verbiage, "Now? They weren't when this happened?"

"The patients' rooms are left unlocked every night; the rules are they are supposed to stay in their rooms."

Grissom had to wonder at the statement. After Boyd's explanation of the occupants of unit 2B he had to ask, "Are these patients mentally capable of following loose rules?"

The nurse merely shrugs, "I just work here…for now."

Grissom couldn't blame her, "Can you take us to the victim now?"

She lead them down the hall and into the room she had an hour before ran from, in fear. Sara begins to process the body as Faber explains to Grissom what she witnessed. "I was finishing up my rounds, when I came into Robbie's room, it smelled different."

"Different how?" Grissom asked.

"Like…" she struggled to find the right words, "…fear. I saw him, on the floor and turned on the light to see if he was ok. Sometimes Robbie would walk in his sleep so I wasn't alarmed until I saw all the blood. Before I could check his vitals I heard a noise."

"From where?" Brass asked as Grissom took notes.

Faber pointed, "From the corner, it was Kenny Valdez, another patient. He was covered in blood."

Grissom sensed her anxiety change to something more primal, disgust. "Ms. Faber?"

She pulled herself together, "He seemed to enjoy the blood. He was smelling his hands, enjoying the iron smell. I ran from the room and activated my alarm."

Grissom nodded as she concluded her narrative, "Where's Kenny now?"

"In restraints, in his room."

Grissom moved toward the door as the nurse began walking toward the suspect's room. He stopped and looked back at Sara. She had finished taking pictures and was searching the body for trace evidence. A rush of fear grabbed him as he thought about leaving her. "Sara."

Looking up she gave him a frustrated scowl having been interrupted.

"I'm going to interview Kenny." He was trying to gage her reaction. She glanced around the room quickly, and calmed slightly when she settled on Brass. She would be alone, but she would still be out of his sight. "Can you stop long enough here to process Mr. Valdez?"

As soon as she heard Grissom say stop she was on her feet kit in hand. "Lead the way." Her words were steady, but he wondered what was going on inside her.

* * *

Processing Kenny was easier said then done. His body jerked wildly against his restraints. Sara finally gave up and started taking pictures. She looked up at the nurse, "Can we get him sedated?" 

The man fixed his wild eyes on her, "I can smell you. You smell like flowers. Your blood must be so sweet."

"You'll never know Kenny." Grissom growled protectively.

Sara was shocked by the intensity of his words, and looked up from her task. She took a step back when she saw his eyes. She saw that look before, in her mother's eyes every time her dad moved drunkenly toward her. She cleared her throat, "Grissom, there's no spatter."

He looked at her, her voice seemed distant, and her expression was one he had never seen on her before. Was she afraid of him? "It might be hidden under all the blood. He looks like he rolled in it." He held her gaze trying to find out if she was ok.

She looked away from him, "Even if he did, there should still be some spatter evidence."

The nurse returned with a syringe, and skillfully injected the trashing patient.

Sara watched his eyes as they slowing began to fade, "We'll need his clothes."

At her words his eyes shot open, "No! They're mine. Mine! You can't have them. Can't…have…them." The drugs slowly took effect.

"Renfield's Syndrome," Nanette stated simply. Sara looked at her, waiting for a definition. "People who suffer from the condition have an inexplicable fascination with blood."

Sara nodded and began thinking through the crime, "The killer must have known that, lured him into the room. All the blood on the floor there's no way he could have resisted."

The nurse looked at the brunette, "The killer? You mean Kenny didn't do it."

Grissom interjected, "It's too soon to say for sure, but right now, my guess is Kenny may know who did this." He cursed himself for letting him be sedated.

Sara was also frustrated. She let her fear get in the way. She wanted the patient subdued, but did not think through the consequences. _'Get it together Sidle,'_ she ordered herself.

"How long before the sedative wears off?" Grissom asked Faber.

She looked down at the needle, "It wasn't very strong, considering his weight, I'd say four hours at the most."

He nodded, "Ok, we'll want to interview all the patients in the mean time."

"Joanna can help you with that, I'm going home, that is if you're done with me."

"Just leave a contact number with me before you leave. Thank you Ms. Faber."

* * *

Grissom slammed his hand down on the table, "It's been three hours." He was frustrated beyond belief, never in his life had he spent so much time running in circles. 

Sara entered the room and sat down next to Brass. She appeared to have come to a dead end as well. "Want to compare notes?"

Brass chuckled, "What notes?"

Sara nodded, "Coroner's report should be done soon, and Kenny should be lucid in about an hour."

Grissom shook his head, "Based on our interviews, lucid is not characteristics these guys posses." He flipped his notebook to the first page, "Donald Salter, a paranoid schizophrenic. Multiple rapes and murders, but the voices in his head were more interesting then my questions. James Simmonds, Major Depressive Disorder, also convicted for rape and multiple assaults. But he's too sleep deprived to organize words into sentences."

He paused to flip the page, "Jake Werner, anti-social with constant manic and psychotic breaks. He was convicted of multiple ritual murders involving satanic cults and the White Aryan Resistance. Actually one of the most lucid patients there, but he prefers to rant about the staff's ethnicities than answer my questions."

Flipping to the last page the feelings of evil returned to Grissom. He had been glad Sara was not in the room while he was speaking with Adam Trent. In all his years as a CSI he had come across some of the most depraved people he could imagine, but Adam felt like pure evil. Grissom reviewed each prisoner's file before interviewing them, and Adam Trent was not an individual he wanted Sara anywhere near. He was not a murderer, but the rapes he was convicted of were some of the most violent he had ever seen.

Sara looked between Grissom and Brass. They were both silent, but it was a disturbing silence. "What?" Neither answered her. "Is that it? Are those the only patients you spoke with?"

Grissom looked at her; he didn't need his notes for this, "Adam Trent, the most coherent of the patients. He has been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. Convicted for three rapes. Has detailed knowledge of Robbie's past, and wonders why we care the killer of a child molester. He thinks society will be thankful they won't have another sexual predator to worry about. He denied killing Robbie, and in great detail explained why he was a rapist and not a murderer." His eyes never left Sara's through is whole narrative.

Sara shivered, she could tell both Grissom and Brass had been disturbed by their encounter with this Adam, and she had really heard enough. She opened her field kit, pulling out bagged evidence, and her own notebook, "I found magazine clippings of little boys hidden under Robbie's mattress. There was also semen on Robbie's bed, but I met with Dr. Diane Dino, the hospital's psychiatrist, who explained the semen couldn't have been Robbie's."

Grissom raised his eyebrow wondering how she could be so sure.

Sara gave him a lopsided grin, "He was chemically castrated as a part of his conviction."

Both Grissom and Brass shifted in their seat, it didn't matter what word preceded castrated, it was still disconcerting.

Sara suppressed a laugh at their expense and continued, "The semen on the bed is most likely someone else's, and most likely the killer's."

Before they could continue, Grissom's phone rang. While he spoke Sara reached for the files Brass had under his hand. He placed his hand down on the file just firm enough to make her look at the cop. "Convicts' files," he warned and slid them over to her.

The top file was Adam Trent's. She looked at his booking photo; his eyes were cold, dead. She skimmed over the documents in his file which mainly covered his treatments, and psych profiles. He had no remorse for his actions, but the doctors listed chemical imbalances as the reason. She got angry. No one was holding him responsible for his actions. The next page detailed his actions in graphic color photos.

Grissom snapped his phone shut, making Sara jump. He stood up and peered over to see what she was looking at. Quickly taking the file from her, he shot a look at Brass, upset that he would let her have the Trent file.

Brass for his part shrugged. Sara was a big girl, she had seen worse up close.

Grissom began to explain his phone conversation, "That was Doc Robinson. He's examined the wounds. The weapon we're looking for is approximately 7 inches long, sharp point, but very dull double sided edges."

Sara started processing the information, "No way there would be a knife or dagger here." Grissom nodded his agreement. She began considering her environment; this was still an office as well as a hospital, "Letter opener?"

"Nurse's station." Grissom responded and headed for the door.

Brass walked out with them, "I'm going to go talk with internal security officers here. See what they have to say."

Sara waved him off without even looking around. Brass could only shake his head. They were on a mission, no time for pleasantries.

* * *

Sara once again stood at the threshold of the nurse's station. _'Suck it up Sidle'_ she told herself, and walked into small room. Grissom was already trying to open the drawers. "Everything is locked." 

Sara nodded, and had to admit she was surprised. "The nurses propped the steal door open, but take the time to lock the drawers?"

Gil had to admit it was strange, but he knew how to fix it. He left the room to find a nurse and their keys."

Sara scanned the room, and saw some shards of something in the back corner. After taking some pictures she played a hunch and tried the drawer next to the broken ceramic. It opened. Inspecting the contents revealed a heart made of the same ceramics as the broken piece on the floor. She reached out to inspect it when she was suddenly slammed into the cabinet. The handles bit into her shoulder and midsection.

* * *

Grissom walked back to the nurse's station with the keys to the drawers in his hand when he noticed that the door was closed. Assuming Sara had closed it, he reached for the handle. Looking into the small window at the top of the door he froze. He couldn't see Sara except her legs. The rest of her was pinned behind Adam Trent. His heart dropped into his stomach, followed by a panic. Pulling on the door knob, he began pounding on the steal, "Get off her! Get the hell off her! Sara!" Seeing he was having no effect he searched frantically for someone to open the door. Running around to the far side of the room he yelled at the orderly, "Do you have keys for this room!" 

The orderly stared at Grissom.

"Do you have keys!"

He shook his head.

"Find someone with keys!" Grissom watched long enough to make sure the boy was running. He turned his attention back to the glass in front of him. From his new position he could see her face.

* * *

Her attacker was pushing her into the cabinet with such force she couldn't get air into her lungs to yell. Her right arm was pinned, she couldn't get her weapon. She pushed against him, trying to get air and her gun, but he only pushed back harder. 

"Stop." He hissed in her ear, as he caressed her face.

Sara tried to get away from his touch, but only succeeded in pushing against him. She felt as if she were about to vomit as she was able to feel his excitement against her hip. Her struggles were turning him on. The room was silent, and all Sara could hear was his breathing. She wondered what he was waiting for. She was helpless to defend herself until her arm was free, and she was getting frustrated. His breathing was ragged and his hip jerked violent against her. Sara closed her eyes, _'Oh god, he's visualizing raping me.' _This renewed her strength as she struggled to get her arm free.

"Are you a spiritual person?" He finally asked her.

'_What was that supposed to mean. Is he going to kill me?'_ Sara had no clue how to answer his question, and settled with a simple, "Sometimes."

He chuckled in her ear. She felt him shift slightly giving her the opportunity to reach for her weapon, but Adam grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm around her back. Using his height he forced her down on her knees, and placed his hand over her mouth.

* * *

Grissom pounded on the glass. He couldn't believe what was taking place before his eyes. He never in his life felt so helpless. Watching the grimace on Sara's face as Trent twisted her arm, was enough to set Gil off. "Where are those damn keys!" He yelled grabbing a metal chair. He swung it into the glass. The safety glass cracked, but there was no way he was going to break into the room. Not even a bullet would penetrate it. That didn't stop him from slamming the chair into the glass again. 

Grissom heard feet pounding behind him, but could not tare his eyes off the scene before him. Adam had placed his hand over Sara's mouth and nose, and suddenly he looked up and directly in Grissom's eyes, like he knew he was there the whole time. Gil tensed as Adam smiled sickly.

* * *

Sara struggled for breath. Her lungs were burning. She was suddenly pulled to the left as Trent reached for something. Her brain was too fuzzy to process what he was doing until she was yanked to her feet, and swung into the face of Gil. Her right arm was still pinned, and she felt a sharp pain in her neck. 'The shards of ceramic,' she thought quickly, 'he's going to slit my throat, and he's going to make Gil watch.' 

She looked into his eyes, trying to tell him a million things in a single glance. _'Look away,'_ she mouthed.

* * *

Gil could hear the guard fumbling with the key, _'The door was never shut,'_ he thought absently, _'he has no idea what key to use.'_ When he saw the blood trickle down Sara's neck all further rational thoughts left him. "No." He whispered. All he could think was why he never told her he loved her, and now he was being forced to watch her final moments. 

She was telling him to look away. He held her gaze and shook his head, there was no way he was ever going to abandon her. "Sara." Her name was his breath, and if she ever left him he knew he would die. Grissom would continue, but Gil would no longer exist.

* * *

Before Adam could cut her throat, Sara heard the door bang open, and her attacker pulled off her. The minute she was free she bolted from the confines of the room. Sara ran down the hall until her legs could no longer support her weight and she sunk down on a chair.

* * *

Grissom watched the guard free Sara from the maniac's hold. His legs could not function. He saw Sara run down the hall and willed him to follow her. She collapsed into a chair before he got to her. He was glad she sat down, because he doubted he could stand. Sinking to his knees before her, he began to evaluate her condition. 

She was breathing erratically, and her neck was bleeding. He could see bruising around her mouth, and he wondered what other injuries she had that he couldn't see. It took all his strength to not pull her into a comforting embrace, but he was very unsure of her emotional state. Understanding her history, the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel more exposed, and more of a victim. He settled for a comforting hand on her knee, "Sara." He whispered.

She wiped her eyes with her left hand, and took a deep breath to steady herself. "I'm okay."

Gil was not convinced, "Are you?"

She nods.

He knew there was more at stake then her physical well being, which he did not believe she was okay in that area either, but he was more concerned about her mental welfare. "Because if you want, I'll bring in someone else to finish the case."

She looked him in the eye, "No. I'm fine." Looking away she knew he was going to need more reassurance than that to let her stay. "You're worried about me, I appreciate that." She had never seen him showing this much concern toward her in public, and it touched her, but now more than ever she needed to finish the case. "Look, after my father died, my mom went to a place like this for evaluation. It smelled the same...It smelled like lies."

Grissom was starting to understand. In the halls of Sparks psychiatric ward, Sara was finally faced with her past in a way that she could control. As a child she could only deal with the stories and lies she was told, helpless to control the outcome. She now had the ability to use the evidence to find the truth regardless of the lie she was being fed.

She finally looked him in the eyes again, "Crazy people make me feel crazy. I start to doubt myself. But I made a choice to move beyond that when I took this case. I'm going to finish it."

He was unsure how smart it was to allow her to stay, but he was too concerned for her to let her out of his sight again, and he wanted nothing but to give her anything she asked. "Ok, let's get you neck taken care of, and we'll get Brass back down here so we can process our new crime scene, and Kenny should be waking from his nap any time now."

Sara nodded and leaned back, massaging her shoulder. Her eyes were closed, and Gil took the opportunity to study her longer then he normally would. He still couldn't bring himself to come to terms with the idea that he almost watched her die.

"Grissom!" Brass called out to his colleague, causing Sara to jump slightly and return to her feet.

Gil stepped in front of Sara, feeling overprotective. "Brass, we need a doctor to check Sara out—"

"Grissom I'm fine, I just need a bandage." She interrupted.

Brass looked at both CSIs, "Ok, tell you what, let me get a nurse to bandage you up, and you two can argue about your doctor appointment that I'll be making for you." Before either could argue Brass walked away; cell phone already up to his ear.

Sara smiled slightly, "Wow, you should take some notes. I don't think I've ever been handled quite like that."

He followed her back to the nurse's station; she paused at the door once more and surveyed the scene, "Adam?"

"Locked in the cell the guards man on the fifth floor." Grissom answered quietly from behind her.

Sara still did not enter, "Can we…can we wait for Brass?"

"Right here Kiddo." Brass answered coming up from the right with a nurse in tow. "This lady would like to make sure you don't bleed on the crime scene." He explained leading her by the arm to another chair. "Your appointment is scheduled for 1500 today. Plenty of time to finish up here and process your evidence."

* * *

Grissom looked around the room still in the doorway so he could still see Sara. He saw the blood drops where Sara's neck wound dripped. He flashed back immediately to the look of surprise on her face as Adam drew blood. He looked back to Sara to remind himself she was ok, and saw her wince as the nurse placed the last butterfly strip on her neck. 

Sara soon joined him in the room with an over bearing Brass standing in the doorway ready to challenge anyone who tried to come near the crime scene. After twenty minutes of searching for a possible murder weapon Sara moved to the file cabinet she was inspecting before she was attacked. She glanced back at Gil and realized the whole time they were processing the scene; he had been working on another case. She looked at the fingerprint powder on the cabinets, and the ceramic pieces on the ground. "Are you done processing the attack over here?" She couldn't bring herself to say 'my attack'.

Gil looked at her, feeling slightly guilty he nodded and continued collecting the blood.

Sara considered the ceramic heart once again, but continued to check over her shoulder. She bagged the heart and the broken pieces on the ground. Searching the rest of the drawer she found a magazine with several articles removed, and before she could bag it a silver letter opener fell out of the pages."

The noise made Grissom look over in concern.

"Found the murder weapon." She called leaning over to grab it from under the table where it fell, she whimpered in pain after placing weight on her right arm.

Gil resisted the impulse to ask of she was ok, clearly she wasn't. He watched her compensate by relying on her stomach muscles to keep her off the ground, but that seemed to cause her discomfort as well. He walked over to her, "Let me?" He asked.

She was becoming increasingly stiff, and was becoming very aware of injuries she did not know she sustained. While Gil was leaning down to get the letter opener, she lifted her shirt and examined a swollen bruise that was forming.

"Sara?" Gil was fixated on the bruise as well.

She lowered her shirt, and nodded toward the handle, "From the cabinet. I'm fine."

Grissom nodded, "I'm not."

Before she could respond he was already packing up the evidence. Suddenly, there was a commotion down the hall. Sara poked her head out, and started running down the hall, "That's Kenny's room!" Before she could get there the doctor was walking out of the room. "Doctor?"

He regarded the brunette, and quickly figured out who she was, "You're here investigating Robbie's death?"

Sara nodded.

"Well, we have one more death here for you." He replied with an air of futility.

Grissom stepped in, "How did he die?"

The MD shrugged, "He died of cardiac arrest. He was perfectly healthy yesterday when I administered a routine physical. My guess is he was drugged somehow."

"Can we get a list of people who would have had access to the drug locker and Kenny?" Sara asked. The doctor nodded and started writing down the information, "Can you make sure we can read that too?"

He paused and smiled at her, "They make us take classes now." He handed her the slip of paper, "My number is on the bottom if you need to contact me."

Sara smiled and thanked him.

Grissom cleared his throat, "The ME is coming down to collect the body, we need to get back to the lab and process this evidence."

"What about these new suspects?" Sara asked waving the paper she just received.

"We'll bring them in and question them."

Sara nodded, and followed him out of the hospital.

* * *

Sara was sitting in the lay out room five hours later. Greg walked in behind her, and studied her before announcing his presence. Her attack was all over CSI. The moment he had heard Sophia had to practically restrain him from leaving their crime scene; now he was satisfied to watch her work. He noticed the bandage on her neck and bruises on her chin. She was rubbing her wrist, and Greg could see some bruising as her sleeve rose. He wanted to spend sometime with the man who hurt her. "You should get that wrist taken care of." 

She self consciously lowered her sleeve, called over her shoulder, "I have a doctor appointment in five hours."

He was stunned, "You're going to see a doctor? How bad did he hurt you?"

Sara waved him off, "Some bruises and a cut, that's all."

"You want me to take you to the appointment?" His question was filled with hope, and Sara sensed it.

"Sure Greggo, I almost have this case solved and then we can go grab some breakfast and let the doc poke and prod. I don't think you'll score if you're with me though."

He smiled, "I'll take one for the team." He looked over her shoulder. "Isn't Grissom supposed to be working with you?"

She nodded, "He's got out primary suspect in the interrogation room, and I'm getting the evidence ready to nail them after they deny our scenario."

"Would you like to enlighten me?" Greg pleaded as he looked over the varied evidence laid out before them.

For some reason, she never found Greg annoying any more, and actually enjoyed teaching him. "Ok, have a seat."

She pulled the clippings of the boys over to Greg, "Someone was trying to frame Robbie, hoping to stage a suicide. They took pictures from this magazine," she held up the evidence from the nurse's station, "and "hid" them under his mattress. The semen we found showed signs of 'frostbite', or the equivalent of a frozen sample that was 'dethawed'."

Greg shook his head, "Really Sara, your choice of words…"

She laughed, "Yeah, sorry, being insensitive. Well all the prisoners were required to provide samples prior to incarceration."

"Why use the old sample? Why not try to get a fresh one?"

"Chemical castration." She explained watching his squirm.

"Nice, so why frame him?"

"Ah, a lover scorn…" Sara explained. She started to pick up the ceramic heart but stopped herself. Instead she chose to point to both the heart and the shards. "Finger imprints indicate Robbie made the pottery and heart."

The pot had been glued back together, and Greg studied it. "You're missing a piece."

Sara stiffened, "its part of another case." She answered simply.

"So who owned the pottery and the magazine?"

"We found it in the nurse's station."

"Did it belong to one of the nurse's?"

Sara shook her head, "Nope, they were in a drawer of confiscated items."

"So who took them?"

"Orderly found them in the day room."

Greg processed all of the info, "So a dead end?"

"Dead yes, but not an end." She lifted the letter opener. "The smoking gun. No prints, but the killer cut themselves leaving DNA behind."

"And the DNA matches…?"

* * *

Dr. Diane Dino sat opposite Grissom. "That's ridiculous, why would I kill Robbie?" 

Sara took that moment to enter with a briefcase full of evidence, but she only needed one thing to lock her case. "He wasn't interested in a relationship any more. Doctor, may I see your hands?"

Her face twisted with disgust as she offered her hands, "A relationship? With a patient? From the psych ward?"

"Where did you get the cut Doctor?" Sara asked noting the gash at the base of her thumb.

The doctor glared, "Opening my mail."

"Paper cut?"

"Letter opener." She shot back.

Sara stared her down, "Doctor, do you subscribe to any parenting magazines?"

"Do I look like a parent?"

Sara want to tell her she looked like her mom, but she wouldn't call her a parent, "No, and you're not I checked, but this magazine belongs to you." Sara offered as she pushed it over to the suspect.

"My name isn't on that."

Sara smiled, "Not that we can see with the naked eye, someone ripped the address label off, but we scanned the second to last page, and found the imprint. This is yours." Sara was sick of the doctor's lies, and didn't want to play the game any longer. "You aren't a brilliant murderer doctor. We found your DNA the letter opener that killed Robbie and it was stuffed in your magazine. A magazine that had pictures cut out of and left at the scene of the crime. You were the only one to have access to Robbie's semen sample, and there are voids in the dust on your bookcase that match ceramic pieces Robbie made and were found with the magazine."

The doctor face contorted with rage. "Those damn nurses never lock the doors. Kenny could smell the blood from his room, the freak. I'm not stupid, before I could finish staging Robbie's death, Kenny came in and that damn nurse started her rounds. I had to leave the magazine and letter opener in the dayroom, there was no where else to put it."

Grissom looked at the doctor, "How did you kill Kenny?"

The doctor looked at him, "I want a lawyer."

Sara grinned, "I figured that out already too. Nurse Faber injected the lethal dose of the sedative, but she needed a doctor to order the drug, but you did more than that didn't you. You pulled the incorrect concentrate and filled the syringe with the lethal dose. I found your fingerprints."

* * *

Greg helped Sara into her apartment. The doctor prescribed painkillers and muscle relaxers, and he knew Sara so he administered the first doses in his office. 

_Greg was surprised when she was wheeled out of the exam room in a wheelchair. The nurse laughed, "You're Mr. Sanders?" _

_He nodded._

"_You're going to need to get her home soon before the muscle relaxers take full effect."_

_Sara scowled, but said nothing._

_Greg looked at her, "You need to tell me exactly what you gave her, it's got some sort of sarcastic complaint inhibitor."_

"_Greg, if you don't get me out of here I'll crawl home." _

It turned out she didn't need to crawl home, but she definitely needed to be helped. Before he got her on the couch he heard Grissom's voice.

"How's the shoulder?"

Greg turned around and saw him leaning against the door frame.

Sara sat heavily on the couch, "Are you following me, or staking out my apartment?"

Gil laughed, "Staking out the apartment."

She closed her eyes, and wondered if she had the energy to deal with Gil. "Thanks for the breakfast and taking care of me Greg. I'll call you tomorrow."

Greg left reluctantly, but understood there was a complex relationship between his boss and friend. He also knew Grissom would take better care of her then he could.

Gil closed the door and locked it.

Sara's eyes were still closed, and she was waiting for the questions about her condition to start. She jumped suddenly when she felt his hands on hers. She looked in his eyes and was surprised to see pain in them. "Grissom, what…?"

He gently pulled her from her couch and into a gentle embrace. His right arm supported her lower back while his left hard stroked he hair. He kissed her forehead, and laid his cheek on top of her head.

Sara was speechless. She had no idea how to react to his actions. She wrapped her good arm around him, and whispered, "I'm ok." They stayed that way for several minutes, but the muscle relaxers were starting to take affect. "Gil, I need to sit."

Hearing his first name spoken by her created a reaction he hadn't experienced in a long time. Butterflies, like he was a teenager again.

He picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. He laid her down; she was almost asleep, "Don't leave."

"I'm not; I'm taking my shoes off." He explained quietly.

Sara rolled to her right out of habit, but hissed at the pain. She felt the bed dip at his weight to her left.

"Easy, what hurts?"

What doesn't she thought, "Do you really want to know what the doc said?"

He scooted closer to her, letting her find a comfortable position facing him. He placed his arm protectively around her waste.

Sara breathed in his aftershave, she had no idea what his compassion meant in the long run, but she was grateful he was there now. "Pulled tendons in my shoulder, sprained wrist where he grabbed me, serious bruising on my chest in midsection from the handles of the cabinet, bruises around my jaw, and ten stitches." She explained her condition with a very clinical tone.

"I'm sorry I left you."

Her eyes were drifting shut, "Not your fault," she mumbled, and fell into a deep sleep.

Gil looked at her face. He had no idea what he was going to do next, only that he never wanted to see in so much pain again. He was committed to her happiness, and would have to wait and see how that translated into real life.

THE END

So I wrote this in a day so go easy on the minor grammatical errors please! But if anyone wants to beta read for me I'd appreciate it.


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